Waiting Rooms
by Twisted SeeSaw
Summary: When Vegas Night goes differently than expected, Eli ends up being truthfully hurt.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: Hi everyone. Thanks for checking out the story. So, I'm going to be posting the whole story right in one go, divided into chapters none the less. The first few chapters will be a little longer, but I thought the more fragmented format was better for this particular story. For a little background, this takes place on Vegas Night- with the primary difference being that Eli is indeed hurt. Alright, so I hope you enjoy the story and remember to comment and review. Criticisms, if helpful, are welcomed. ENJOY. **

Clare's breath seemed to be caught in her suddenly dry throat. She pulled, as hard as she could, on Adam's shoulder as soon as she caught sight of him. "Where's Eli?" she murmured frantically, praying he was safe, away from Fitz.

"He's out there looking for you, he wanted to apologize for-" he never bothered finishing that sentence, Clare had already scurried away. Confused, Adam turned back to some friends, after all, it was never fun to get in between Clare and Eli when the happy couple was fighting.

Clare had already made her way across the dance floor in her haste. Finding a security officer, she grabbed frantically on his jacket, pulling at his sleeve. "Young lady, please, that is no way to-" he began authoritatively.

"Please sir, there's a student with a knife!" she tried to remain as calm as possible, but she was crying anyways, the first few drops of water splashing to her cheeks.

The man's eyes got wider, "Where?" he was suddenly at full attention.

"In the hall somewhere, I'm not really sure, I mean- I ran in here to find- He's after Eli! I mean, a friend of mine." Her words became more and more frantic as her scattered thoughts drifted to the weapon Fitz was wielding, the danger, that Eli wasn't even aware of. "He's going to hurt him, I know it!" She turned heel and headed for the door, intent on finding Eli while the cops took care of Fitz. She had to see it with her own eyes, hold him her own arms before she would believe he was safe.

"You can't go out there, miss. It's too much of a danger!" the officer was right behind her.

"You don't understand! I have to find him before Fitz, I mean the guy with the knife, does! He'll try to be brave and end up doing something stupid and then he'll get hurt, please, we're losing time!" She was frustrated, this guy didn't understand how these things worked. He didn't understand the psychology of Eli Goldsworthy, who was more likely to mock his attacker instead of using his instinct and _running_.

"I'm sorry, you're going to have to stay here. Go talk to him over there, he pointed to another uniformed man, and tell him everything you know. I'll try to find your friend, hopefully safe."

In a numb state, Clare made her way slowly towards the other man. By this time, a message had been radioed out to several other officers, calling in reinforcements. The lights flickered and came on, the music shredded to a silent halt and the true tears began to come, glimmers of hope darkening to a dull ache that was fear. An announcement was made about the lockdown, chaperone's began taking position by the entrances, containing the students in the panicked gymnasium that suddenly felt simultaneously claustrophobic and empty to Clare.

The stranger asked a slew of questions, they all seemed trivial. What did it matter if Eli had done anything to provoke violent retribution, if he was about to be killed by psycho with a knife? They had to save him no matter what.

If they didn't, she feared she might spend the rest of her life living in that world that was both claustrophobic and empty, with that dull ache never leaving. A world without Eli, a world where she hadn't even said goodbye.


	2. Chapter 2

Eli took another stride in the darkened corridor. He had already looked everywhere for Clare, and had unknowingly wound up in a dead end, nothing but a pair of locked double-doors to the outside behind him. He leaned against a locker and closed his eyes in defeat. he'd really done it now, Clare would hate him for this. With the music of his iPod blaring in his ears, he didn't hear an announcement about a lockdown. He didn't hear the encroaching footsteps of one Mark Fitzgerald.

Deciding to return to the gym, where he guessed Clare and her 'date' had gone back to by now, Eli opened his eyes.

What greeted him was not the lonesome corridor he'd been expecting, but rather the shadowed figure of his rival in the distance, eerily alit by the muted adds for Vegas Night flashing across a television in a far off hall.

He hastily pulled the earphones out, letting them drape around his neck as he stood.

"Glad to see I caught your attention, Eli!" Fitz called with bitter mock enthusiasm in his tone.

"Listen man, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have like, poisoned you, it wasn't cool." Eli ran a hand through his hair before holding it out, poised to make peace through medium a good old fashioned handshake. The taller boy across the hall silently scoffed at the gesture.

Fitz regardlessly closed the gap between the two in a few swift steps, he too held out his hand , Eli reached forward to finish the argument with a dignified sign of peace.

Or so he thought.

The knife concealed in Fitz's sleeve slipped into his hand, causing a large gash to appear as Eli's wrist moved past.

In his alarm, not realizing what was happening, Eli didn't even push back as Fitz pushed him backwards, cornering him against a wall.

At this moment, two police officers appeared at the other end of the corridor, each a flashlight in hand guns clutched in the other.

"Um, help..." called Eli with more than a hint of detectable sarcasm. Even if he was now aware of his own danger, he couldn't manage to drop his painfully coy persona.

"Put your hands up and Drop The Weapon!" yelled a female officer. Another was busy alerting the paramedics outside that their help might yet be required. He realized he wasn't quite yet in the clear.

"One more minute, mom!" Fitz called playfully. He turned back to Eli, smiling maliciously before thrusting the knife into the other boy's abdomen. It wasn't his original intent to harm Eli, but merely scare him. But, seeing his enemy in such a stupidly helpless state, it was far to hard to resist.

Eli, in a state of total shock, began sliding towards the floor. He hadn't yet made a noise when the other plunged the knife into him once again, too shocked to fully process the pain. Fitz pulled him upright again by his silver necklace, rapidly repeating his action a few more times. He didn't even care by now, he was already going to jail- and he wanted to see enough pain in Eli's eyes to sustain him through the stay.

A gunshot rebounding off the door next to the two finally made Fitz drop his weapon. In a display that Eli would likely accuse of being hilariously cheesy (if he were currently able to do so) the window pane in the door exploded, tiny shards of glass hitting the walls, ceiling and floor, a million little pieces of crystal rain.

Fitz was dealt with by one of the officers, the remaining one, as well as some that had just shown up on scene, rushed towards Eli, whom was just now beginning to realize the scope of his own injuries.

As a paramedic arrived, Eli made his own little show of the situation, as per usual. Though this time not entirely aware... He raised his head and gave a blank stare to the many people around him. "Holy Shit, that was dramatic." he mumbled, almost to himself, before letting unconsciousness consume him. The final ominous note of a song resounding from the headphones draped 'round his neck.


	3. Chapter 3

Chatter, mostly of the frantic questioning sort, had started back up in the gymnasium. Clare had found her way back to Adam, eventually choking out the details of their situation. The two were standing as close as they could to the gym's main entrance, trying to catch a glimpse of what may be going on outside through a small and dirty window pane imbedded in the metal double doors. Clare's shaking and admittedly sweaty hand was being held in Adam's, though he knew she'd much rather his place be taken by Eli.

"C'mon, he feigned reassurance, Eli's gonna be fine. I'm sure he's out somewhere having a laugh over the fuss they're making." He hoped his words reigned true, because the newsless minutes of silence continued to tick on, and he was beginning to believe himself less and less.

"You really think he's alright?" whispered Clare through a sniffle. Just as Adam cautiously nodded, a loud bang sounded through the building. Surprised yells and screams rang through the room for barely a second- the sound of shattering glass bringing in a frightening finale to the chorus.

Clare's hand squeezed harder than ever against Adam's as they each let out their own gasp of surprise. The room was quieter than ever before. Whispered conversations were kept to a minimum, tears to a maximum. The two friends silently reassured themselves that it was Fitz who would have been shot, if anyone- after all, only the police had guns in this fight. At the same time, they were also sure that, in order to resort to shooting at a minor, Fitz had done something. That thought scared them more than anything.

Trying to stay optimistic, Adam finally found his voice. "That had to be the police, right? And they wouldn't shoot Eli. It has to be Fitz. I'm sure Eli's okay!" Clare nodded silently, pressing her face against the glass. Both were lying.

The omnipresent sound of sirens rang through their ears, once again silencing the crowd. The officer from earlier, whom was still positioned inside the gym, whispered something into his radio before hurrying outside. The teachers were flustered, knowing nothing more than the students, looking for answers that weren't there in the worried eyes of their colleagues.

The blinding lights appeared in a door directly across from Clare's perch. Her heart sank even more. It wasn't the red and blue lights of a familiar police cruiser. Instead, the lights were red and white- an ambulance. She would have sank to her knees in that moment, had it not been for the sound of wheels. The sight of paramedics rushing through with _a stretcher_. She wanted to die, but she knew they'd return this way. Maybe if she squinted hard enough through that dirty window, she might be able to see who'd won, or rather- who'd lost.

Feeling somewhat guilty, yet entirely justified, she prayed it was Fitz that was in trouble. Just not Eli. Anyone but Eli. Please.

The silenced gym stayed that way for what seemed like ages. Finally though, in the distance- the sound of plastic wheels squeaking against the linoleum floor. On the pale hand, his hand, a single black stone pressed into a silver ring. Eli. A trail of blood trailed down his wrist, pooling in his hand and eventually, a few drops spilling to the clean floor as they sped past. "Eli..." was all Clare could muster before dropping to the floor. She wanted to shout, scream, cry, but she couldn't. She wanted to die, but she wouldn't. She wanted to hold his bloody hand, and for him to laugh and smile, to tell her she was overreacting, that everything was fine. No such luck. The lights of the ambulance got smaller, more distant, the sound of the sirens retreating quietly into the previously cheerful twilight. The doors of the gym were eventually unlocked, the students told to return home, none receiving any information, all speculating about who was hurt.

Adam's mother had ordered he and his brother to return home. For many reasons, starting at Morty and ending with Bullfrog , she hadn't even met Eli, let alone known he was friends with her son. Adam gave a sad glance to Clare, who was sitting alone on a bench outside the school, phone in hand.

The man on the other end of the line finally picked up after a fourth ring. Clare wanted to be relieved, but nothing seemed to be able to lift the blanket of dread.

"Hey there, this is Bullfrog!" answered a cheery, yet gruff voice. She realized that he hadn't yet been reached with the news.

"Mr. Goldsworthy, this is Clare. Something happened."

"What do you mean? Is Eli okay?" he was suddenly serious, his son was always getting into trouble.

"No..." she started to sob, unable to finish her thought.

"What happened? Where is he? Um, here, put him on the phone!"

"I can't"

"What?"

"Fitz had a knife. I don't know what happened, they're taking Eli to the hospital."

The sound of raw silence filled her ears. For once, Bullfrog had nothing to say. After almost a full minute of shock, he came to. "Are you at the school? We're on our way, we'll pick you up."

"Yes please." she whispered into the receiver.

"We'll be there in a minute!" he shouted into the phone, clearly halfway out the door, wife at his side.

Neither party said goodbye before hanging up the line- each beginning a new wave of fast forming tears.

It seemed like ages before a car finally screeched to a halt directly in front of where Clare sat. Eli's mother climbed out, giving her a wordless hug before the both got in. The car made it's way slowly through the emptying car park. Through a window, Clare caught a glance at Morty, resting lonesomely where Eli had parked him.

His parents noticed too. Each passenger thought of the hearse's significance-praying it wouldn't be the next and last vehicle he ever rode in.

Bullfrog parked the car as the two women got out, waiting by the entry way. A light snow had started to fall, painting the scene an eery white. Upon returning, he shook the cool powder from his leather jacket and put a comforting arm around Clare, a sign of solidarity for the both- no one was alone. He was glad someone cared this much about his son, whom was never famous for his abundance of friends. Even if this was his only friend, she was friend enough. He could see she cared deeply for Eli. He needed someone stable and kind like that in his life.

His life. It could be over, and he might not even know it.

God, how could this happen? God. Was he around? Was he listening? If he was, could he maybe do something? Make sure of something? That his boy was alright, his child, his only one.

At the moment, the three of them weren't even sure what exactly they were praying over. Had Fitz really gotten to him? Had the police shot the wrong one? Sickening theories spun a web through their minds, twisting and weaving their way into visions of fear and terror. Not a one was easier to picture than the other.

Clare was pondering how her heart had somehow repositioned itself, closer to her skull- it was pounding in her ears like a drum, ticking away the moments with the precision of a clock, slow as it could. Tick, Tock. Another moment without him. There goes another, and another, and another.

Sleep, in all it's beautiful mercy finally intervened on her slow torture, salvation from reality, hidden in a nightmare.


	4. Chapter 4

She awoke to the sound of hushed voices, whispers in the distance. One eye peeked open to observe the scene, though blinded temporarily by the burn of white light. It was in stark contrast to her dream, in which she'd been laying on a forest floor.

In the dream, it was midnight. She was laughing, because her parents were calling her phone every five minutes, but she was ignoring them. It had felt so good, being out for the hundreds of prohibited minutes, in the Twilight with Eli. They were talking, about nothing in particular. He was holding her hand, and he was laughing.

The voices she woke up to- were not laughing. It was Eli's parents, they were talking to a doctor, whom was wearing a facial expression she recognized from television, a medical poker-face if you wish. He wasn't delivering good news. She quickly closed her eyes, and attempted not to listen to the voices. Trying instead to concentrate on the distant beat of a secretary typing rhythmically on a computer.

It wasn't that she was trying to avoid hearing bad news. It was just that- this was private. It seemed like such a familial affair, hearing his fate. Those people, they deserved to hear it together, by themselves. It felt stupid that they would consider her important enough to know anyways. In retrospect- they had known Eli for a little over sixteen years, she foolishly thought she knew everything about him after- a little over four months.

She dared not sneak another peek, when she heard soft footsteps coming towards her. Clare tried her hardest to act surprised and groggy when CeCe shook her shoulder "Clare, dear- we can go see Eli now."

"What happened? Where am I?" she muttered, rubbing her eyes. She was a terrible actress, but Eli's mother didn't seem to take huge notice.

"We're in the waiting room at the hospital. Remember, honey, Eli was hurt..." she trailed off...

"Oh, yeah, right, Clare ditched her act, you said he was awake?" she was too eager.

"No... I said we could go see him. I'm not really sure when he'll wake up."

"Oh, sorry..." mumbled Clare, embarrassed of stirring up the emotion. Neither one spoke until they reached a room upstairs. The door was unremarkable, like every other one. She was suddenly ashamed of herself. The whole time she'd been walking down that long hallway, an endless maze of unremarkable doors, she'd been thinking about him. In his room. How worried she was. But, there was a person, a helpless person, behind each of those unremarkable doors was a story of trial and tribulations- the occasional triumphs, the occasional death.

It was harder to be here, amongst people on the bridge between life and death- than it was to be in a cemetery. You didn't feel guilty for not praying for the deceased.

It was the human condition though- there wasn't enough room to love everyone. She still continued to pray for Eli, and he alone.


	5. Chapter 5

It wasn't so much that he was asleep in that hospital bed, looking helpless, young. Most people looked that way when they were asleep. It was the bed. The room. The conclusion: hospitals are more dead than anyone who lost their life inside their drab walls.

The bed was a grey-ish thick molded plastic monument to Ugly. Even the blankets were so Sterile they seemed to have forgotten they were supposed to be warm and or comforting. Eli didn't look half as bad, half as hurt, when you got so close that you couldn't see the rest of the room.

Clare took a long look at him, before noticing his parents. They had pulled up the two elementary school blue plastic chairs from their spot near the window sill. In an almost sacredly ritualistic act- they set those chairs down next to the bed, and sat, held hands, cried and held vigil.

She was not part of that ritual. Simply staring at the movie-esque scene. After a brief silence- Bullfrog asked if she would like his seat. "Um, no. I'm gonna go to the washroom." Like in the minutes before, she'd felt so painfully intrusive, like a stranger wandering into a funeral. She would come back later. When he was awake. When she didn't have to sit in that dead room, hoping Eli would somehow breathe life back into the unseeing walls.

If the walls could speak- it would be a long sad tale. And like in so many stories- the happy memories would slip through the cracks.


	6. Chapter 6

It took a long while to find the promised washroom. She had probably passed others on her way to this one, so far away from room 312. That was okay though, the walking away had given her time to be alone, and to think. To talk to herself. Anyone who could hear was too lost in their own thoughts to care.

In the wide washroom, a familiar shade of too-clean white, she was glad to find herself alone. The lights were blindingly white, almost blue, and the whole place smelled like someone cleaned it- with bleach. The was nothing comforting about cleanliness, it was unsettling to remark when the decor didn't change between where people lived and died- and where people took a shit.

She didn't actually have to _use_ the washroom, so she just fixed herself up. She was still in that festive, yet conservative dress she'd worn to Vegas Night, that seemed a million miles away, years in the past. Her hair was a mess from sleeping in that chair earlier, her makeup running down her face, now dried into black trails down her cheeks. Permanent tears.

Clare paced nervously around the small room, her phone in hand, ringing again and again on the other end. Her mother finally picked up just as the call went to voicemail. "Clare Edwards! Where are you- it's past midnight! I called the school, and they said the dance ended early because of some ruckus, four hours ago!" her mother was pissed off, as usual. She was always pissed off when Clare was out, especially if Eli was involved. Her parents weren't particularly fond of the mystery boy.

"Mom, please. The ruckus, as you put it, was my friend getting stabbed by some crazed maniac. I'm at the hospital.

"Oh- I'm sorry. Is she alright?" her mother awkwardly regained composure.

"He. And I don't know. He's asleep." her voice was stiff and angry.

"Oh, um. Alright. Should I come pick you up? You can visit him tomorrow if you'd like, but you should come home and get some sleep, Clare."

"Yeah, sure. I'll be out in the front." she hung up the phone carelessly, not waiting for her mother's response. She didn't want to talk about it. But she didn't want to be living it either. If she could get home, then she wouldn't have to sit in that room all day, waiting for a boy who was as good as dead to wake up.

The car ride home was awkward and silent. Her mom asked which friend it was, she told her the name, one she only recognized from stories about school. "The boy who writes?" she asked, trying to recall anything else about this Eli.

"Yeah, mum. Him." Clare answered half-heartedly. Her mom was pretty concerned, about her daughter of course, she wasn't usually this distant. She must be really upset about this. Strange, as far as she knew, that boy only even spoke to her during english class. Clare had never really got around to telling her mom that Eli was, not her best friend, but most certainly one of them. Or more.

"Maybe you could bring over some flowers or something. I'm sure he'll appreciate the thought when he wakes up." said Clare's mom, smiling over at her from the driver's side.

" He would laugh at me for being so cheesy..." mumbled Clare. That was essentially the end of the conversation.

The next day, Clare was digging through a box in the basement, the old cardboard smelled musty and damp. It was dark, so she couldn't see what she was looking for. She almost screamed when she felt something both rubbery and furry, a rat? No, it was just a rubber spider, hidden amongst old halloween decorations that hadn't seen the light of day in years. She finally found a plastic skull, grabbed it and got the hell out of that scary basement.

The skull was creepy, but that was the point. Eli would make fun of her if she brought him flowers, so she found the opposite, something that would make no one but Eli laugh.

When she got to his room, his mother was there and explained that Bullfrog still had to do his radio show. Clare didn't stay long to chat, choosing simply to place the skull on his small side table before leaving. It was still too hard to look at Eli.

Out in the hallway, she heard a voice, CeCe, Eli's mom, was right behind her. "Clare, she shouted as she caught up to her, Um, Clare dear, would you mind watching Eli? I have an appointment at the hairdresser's it's been scheduled for weeks, and it'll only be for an hour or so, please? I want someone to be there if he wakes up." she looked so worn out... Clare couldn't really resist. It was only an hour. And after all, it was just like an hour left alone.

"Yeah sure. I'll stay."


	7. Chapter 7

Clare took a seat in the small chair next to the bed, another had been pushed back to it's place in the corner while Bullfrog was away. She just looked at Eli for a long time, he was pale. Really pale. Because he'd kind of drenched the floors of Degrassi with a large percentage of his blood and all. In fact, there was a clear bag of O negative hanging on a metal pole next to him at that very moment.

Without having noticed them starting, Clare realized she was crying. "I'm Sorry" she whispered. She had always been one to think aloud, and there wasn't anyone conscious to hear it anyways. "It's my fault, Eli. I shouldn't have gotten so mad at you. I shouldn't have gone with Fitz. I shouldn't have said what I said. I should have found you myself. I'm so, so sorry. And now I might...lose you, forever. And i mean, I've hardly had time to get to know you at all... and..." she was choking up as she spoke, though she knew Eli couldn't hear her anyways.

Clare jumped, she swore she heard someone _laughing_, somewhere. What kind of person would laugh at someone breaking down like this.

"Oh my God! That was _awesome_." laughed Eli, his eyes still closed, pretending to sleep.

"Eli?" Clare whispered, her mouth hanging open.

"The one and only." he opened his green eyes, giving a sly grin. "So, he continued, how long have you been in love with me? 'and now I might lose you, forever.' geez, that was a classic!"

"Jerk!" she slapped him in the face, laughing as she cried.

"Hey, hey, hey. I just woke up after being stabbed 7 times in the chest and you slap me. Ouch, Edwards!" he was grinning grinning.

"Why you let me keep talking like an idiot?"

"Because it's fun to see how awesome I am. You love me!"

'No! I was just, worried. For... you're parents. They've been really worried."

"Not buying that for one second." he couldn't wipe the grin from his face.

"So... he stabbed you _seven_ times?" Clare reverted back to a more pressing issue.

"I think. I wasn't really busy counting while he did it, and there's several layers of gauze on my chest so I haven't really had the chance to check. Just a guess. Also- I'm hungry."

"Oh. Well, yeah. Do you want like, a sandwich or something?"

"My favorite." he didn't seem quite so pale and sick now that he was being sarcastic again.

"So, Eli mused while he ate, did you guys ALL think I was as good as dead?

"Well I'm sorry that you wanted people to take it lightly when you got hunted down and stabbed by psychopath. Maybe you should have left instructions.

"Ha Ha. Very funny. But seriously. I'm okay."

"I know. And you know, I'm glad."

"Oh, I know!" he raised a mocking eyebrow.

"Shut up!" she slapped him again, laughing and crying still.

**The End. **

**(a sequel may or may not come to fruition. Comment your thoughts on that, please.)**

**THANKS FOR READING!**


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